A Dose of Consciousness
by The Shrubbery
Summary: One love-sick idiot is enough for Artemis. And then some shady drug cartel / criminal doctor tells him he needs to "connect" to him. And there still might be more coming? D'arvit.


**Wahahaha. We may have Orion and Artemis, but we certainly do not have enough...**

**Therapy sessions with the Doctor may or may not hurt your eyes and your spleen, so take caution.**

**I have very subtle Matrix mentions because I'm rewatching them (and loving every moment!) so, you're warned.**

**I don't own the lovely Mr. Artemis.**

* * *

><p>"Mother, I object."<p>

Artemis was sitting, as was his mother. She was pleading and he was refusing. She looked desperate and he looked cold.

"Artemis, it's getting worse every day!" she pleaded, her hands clutching his. "You cannot help but use your fives and sometimes you must simply _have_ to turn your consciousness over to Orion! You have to cure it!"

"And I said no," Artemis replied in a tone that was not to be trifled with. "I don't need your doctor."

Angeline took a deep breath to steady herself, "The man knows what he's doing. And he knows about the fairies."

Artemis's head snapped up when she said 'fairies'. How could another individual know of fairies?

Artemis growled. "Did he blackmail you or...?"

"No, no, Artemis, he isn't from the Mafia or the Mob or whatever creep organization you and your father used to associate with." She smiled. "Will you just meet him?"

Artemis sighed. He gave in. "Very well, then, Mother. I can do anything—I've already worn jeans."

Angeline gave a crooked smile. "No...you're wearing basketball shorts this time."

* * *

><p>After a bit of wrestling and snarling and other unpleasant things, Artemis arrived at the DO, The Doctors Organization. It looked suspicious enough, hidden deeply inside of the grunges of the New York alleyways. There were gangs galore and thugs doing shady business everywhere. Still, Artemis refused the urge to dial up Butler, who was currently in Brazil with his sister on a training trip, and have him rush over and carry him home because his mother was emitting a sort of happy glow. He couldn't resist that.<p>

"Doesn't it look _wonderful?_" Angeline asked, her hands clasped together. Artemis hid a sneer when he saw packets of unnamed powder littering the streets and vulgar language strewn across the walls. Despite those facts, however, the building itself looked very presentable. Clean, glossy, glassy, and professional. Artemis gave a tentative nod to his mother's question, not trusting his throat to speak just yet.

The chauffeur dropped them off and rushed away, clearly in distaste with their destination. Artemis could agree. But they headed inside nonetheless.

The inside of ginormous building seemed to all be made out of the delicate glass that was on the outside. The chairs, the table, the computers, the cups, even the people. One in particular, skinny as a stick with beady little eyes, came up and offered politely her help. Angeline told her that they had an appointment with the Doctor.

"Oh, I never expected that such a young one would be considered for donation," she said with curly smile at Artemis. He frowned at her choice of words.

"N—no!" Angeline said quickly. "Not for either! He's here for counseling."

The woman gave a wilting smile. "Oh." She was clearly disappointed.

Angeline gave her a mean look and grasped Artemis's hand. They went up the stairs and fumbled around with a blank door—also glass—and then entered.

"Hallo, we've been expecting you, Angie and...Arty." A man with a glop of hair place disproportionately on his head smiled broadly. Artemis was uncomfortable already. He seemed much like a drug lord already. Big buildings, fancy suits, corporation in a dingy neighborhood...

"Geronimo!" Angeline squealed. Artemis looked at his mother with increasing disbelief. As much as his mother was the least composed of the family, he had never ever heard her squeal. Not once. Not even when she was giving birth to the twins.

"I'm sorry to ask of this, my lovely, but I need a moment with your son..."

Angeline nodded enthusiastically. She hurried out the door.

"Now, Artemis," Mr. Drug Cartel said in a harsher tone as soon as Angeline left, "I see you have the Atlantis Complex."

"Yes..." Artemis replied tentatively. "My mother insisted that I come, I did not want to...at all."

"Hmm...yes..." he muttered, scribbling something down on his notepad. "Now, Artemis Fowl, we will need to perform some tests and ask you some questions. Please..." he smirked, "...don't fidget."

* * *

><p>Artemis certainly fidgeted. He undertook several long, menial tasks as the Doctor observed him, poked him, studied him, took samples from, etc. etc. etc. By the end of it, Artemis felt no need to go back to his Manor anymore, he would certainly die here.<p>

"Well, you certainly have the Atlantis Complex," the Doctor concluded by the end of their painful session of tests. Artemis scowled, he had told him that right when he met him! And several times in between, like when he was taking a forced stool sample or cutting open his finger. "But it's a special case."

Artemis groaned. Special cases usually meant more work, money, and stress. Plus a love-sick alter and it could become the worst counseling of his life. "How is it special, Doctor?"

"Well, a personality consists of three main personalities. A father, a mother, and a child." He held up his three stocky fingers which were adorned with sparkly rings. "Your personality changes when one is more dominant than the other. However, the Atlantis Complex splits the three apart and they are forced to adapt with other experiences of mindsets that are unlike the norm." He takes out a diagram. There was a picture of a mother, a father, and a little boy stationed in the three corners of a triangle.

"For example, Mother can be with Child and, to make up for the Father, have another heavy dose of girlyness. Thus, we create the Stereo-Teen Personality." He flipped the page of the diagram to show picture of teenage girls gabbing on their phones and arguing with their moms. "Or, we can create the Athletic Personality by mixing the Father, the Child, and mixing in experiences of professional sporting." He flips the page once more and pictures of boys kicking around balls or rolling around ecstatically.

"Ah, so in general, to create someone's "personality" is basically just like adding ingredients to cake," Artemis murmured quietly. "If you fluctuate even the tiniest bit, it will create something completely different and unique."

"True," the Doctor agreed. "The examples I showed you were Block Personalities. Pure, simple personalities. It's like a painting using no shades or tints or anything, everything in a color is just that color. It's a very fundamental piece to creating Secondary and Tertiary Personalities." The Doctor paused before standing up and looking out the glass window behind him.

Artemis said, "Secondary and Tertiary Personalities? As in...?"

"Secondaries are two Blocks combined to create a slightly more complex system," the Doctor explained, his finger tracing little designs on the window. "Tertiaries are three combined." He smiled. "And if you continually add and separate and mix and whatnot, you could create an Individual."

Artemis nodded. "So, for example, you could mix the Stereo-Teen with the Athletic to create an athletic Stereo-Teen. That's a Secondary." Artemis paused for a moment. "If you added a Mother figure in, that would be an Athletic Stereo-Teen Mentor." He thought for a moment before continuing, "But that's too...simple. So, for example, you give pet peeves and other quirks to create a...what did you call it?...an Individual, I believe?"

"It's like playing Doodle God, except with Personalities," the Doctor said. "It's an incredibly interesting line of work."

"Then how do you 'mix' it, per se?" Artemis asked, further intrigued.

"Ah, well, you may enter and exit out of a Contact, correct?" The Doctor waited for Artemis's response before realizing he did not understand the term he was giving. "Pardon me, I mean, the mind room you occupy while your alter is in your conscious."

"That is correct, I can see what Orion is up to when he's out there..." he looked for the correct word, "...fooling around."

"This Orion, he is your romantic counterpart, yes?" the Doctor asked. Artemis nodded. "Well, anyway, when inside the Contact, it's actually _your_ part in Limbo."

Artemis was taken aback. "Excuse me?"

"Limbo is just infinite unconsciousness," the Doctor said. "You can manipulate it to your will, you can create more of it, you can do so many things you _cannot_ do in the real world." He smiled. "Have you ever noticed that you never actually really share a dream? It's your subconscious projections that you recognize as people when you are sleeping. This is because we all have our individual Limban space." Artemis nodded thoughtfully. "Now, your subconscious can also resurface anything hidden from your consciousness. This is the natural phenomenon we call the Harling Surface, which simulates experiences that we live through to perhaps learn something, remember something, create something, etc. We do this because our body calls on us to process the information a second time so that we will still remember it when we wake up.

"Now," the Doctor continued, "your personalities surface because, originally, they are supposed to be suppressed into one personality. However, because of the Atlantis Complex, they come up as different split personalities that your subconscious can't help but reveal. But, when you have multiple consciousness in one Limban space, it cannot contain it as well as your dreams. Therefore, a different personality may take over."

"Then if we have separate consciousness, then why can we view through their eyes? Shouldn't we be off in Limbo somewhere doing something else?" Artemis asked.

"Fundamentally, yes, but since you all branched from the same consciousness, you still have a connection which allows you to stay in Contact." He faced Artemis abruptly. "Now, what we need to work on is making that connection _stronger_ so that you can still have some control a current Dominant personality when they are in the real world."

"How would you do that?" Artemis spoke with enthusiasm. Maybe Mother was right—this wasn't just a quack doctor! He actually knew what he was talking about. Artemis could feel hope bubbling up in his stomach. He might be rid of that horrid romantic freak once and for all!

"You need to meet Orion and you need to _connect_." Artemis made a face which the Doctor responded with a _tsk_. "Actually, you might have to meet all of them, although it may not be necessary quite yet."

"Excuse me? _All_ of them? Do you mean to say there's not only Orion?" Artemis scowled. Another creepy personality as well as Orion? And he also needed to connect with him?

"It's possible. After all, you are a special case." The Doctor took a look at his charts. "It certainly is possible," he said again. "Why don't you talk to Orion, he might know them a tad bit better than I do. After all, he's spent most of his life crammed with them."

Artemis gave a tentative nod. The Doctor handed him a red pill. Artemis popped it into his mouth and slumped unconscious into his chair.

* * *

><p><strong>Please review!<strong>


End file.
